


Chase Your Dreams Away

by orangesofsymmetry



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Dan is...Not as Cool, M/M, Phil is Cool, Phil is in a band, Recreational Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-01-24 09:44:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1600352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangesofsymmetry/pseuds/orangesofsymmetry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Phil Lester is in a band, and Dan Howell has a bed.</p><p>-</p><p>(<i>Phil Lester!</i> Dan’s brain supplies, numbly. <i>Phil Lester!</i></p><p>Dan suddenly feels a burning desire for the fiery pits of hell to swallow him up. Whole.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> some fun things about this fic:
> 
> 1) it was originally written waaay back in june (ish?) 2014 so it is SUPER old, but has been adapted (yay!)  
> 2) phil's band name (carnage mayhem) is SO ripped off from muse; it was one of the names they used before becoming muse!
> 
> the more you know!

There are few things in this world that any one man can be certain of. These certainties are few and far between, but one of them is this: Dan loves his bed.

He  _loves_  it. In this little corner of the universe, Daniel James "Dan" Howell loves his bed, and there is absolutely nothing on Earth that can stop him.

Listen, okay, his bed is _good._ The mattress is _perfect,_ and there always seems to be just the right duvet to body ratio, and it the way his pillows bunch up slightly overnight underneath his head is just _delightful_ , and…

Point: there is nothing better than his bed. Seriously.

His bed is heaven on four stumps. Even if the headboard is _slightly_ (read: _very)_ loose.

That could be an inconvenience to Dan – it could be a damn modern tragedy, a tragedy for the a _ges_ – but Dan isn’t letting anything stop him anymore. There’s just something about the education system that’s made him a fighter.

Plus, if Dan thinks about it this way, a situation in which a squeaky headboard would be of any inconvenience to him would be a situation in which he would be about to get some, and, well. It’s not looking very likely. Which is, perhaps, the only plus side of Dan not getting any.

He’s seventeen. He’s allowed to be a little bitter about his lack of a sex life. It’s only natural.

He rolls over in his (divine, God-given) bed and tucks his knees into his chest and says, aloud, “It is only natural.”

It’s hard, sometimes, he’s not going to lie; he’s just a queer kid trying to make it in the big bad world, and there are certain hurdles he feels like he’s going to have to jump to get to get there.

This list of hurdles begins with A-Levels and ends with A-Levels, but, somewhere in the mix, in thick, dark, black lettering it says _lose virginity._

Which brings him swiftly to the point of how does one break one's virginity?

Because it goes like this: everyone is a virgin once, right? _Everyone_. Lots of people happily stay virgins for life. And while it may be a dated social construct, virginity is still a _thing,_ and, while the rejection of the construct of virginity is something that Dan desperately agrees with, it’s kind of difficult when he can still hear his Grandma preaching about the sacredness of his first time and the importance of saving himself for marriage. If there’s one thing he’s learnt from his Catholic upbringing it’s this: Dan should stay a virgin until he marries a pretty girl called Mary, which means he’s going to stay a virgin his _entire life_ because he’s _gay, Grandma, I’m gay._

Ahem. Amen. Whatever.

Maybe if Dan had cool friends, or the confidence to just come out with the words _I’m a virgin, help_ , then perhaps  he'd ask them, but he’s limited in those departments.

Besides, he’ll always have his bed.

 

___

 

Tom grins at him, which means that whatever he has to say cannot be good. Tom grinning is  _never_  a good thing.

Dan looks very pointedly at his best friend, and then looks back down at his worksheet in a way that he hopes clearly conveys his distaste for whatever Tom’s about to say.

In the grand scheme of things, Tom asking “Do you wanna go to a gig?” is not the _worst_ outcome, but Dan still isn’t very reassured. This is mainly because if trolling were still a thing, then Tom would probably be called a troll, but it's not 2009 so people just tend to call him a dick. Dan happens to love him anyway, but that’s not relevant right now.

“A gig?” Dan echoes.

“Yes.” Tom says quickly, looking long-suffering. “A gig. And don’t you dare tell me that you’re busy, your social life is worse than mine.”

Dan doesn’t even flinch. “I’m not sure, Tom,” He starts, and Tom’s face shifts into the expression it always does when Dan’s being a little shit. “Mum’s recorded _Antiques Roadshow_ and I think she wants us to watch it together.”

Tom sighs, and promptly changes strategy. “I can get alcohol.” He says nonchalantly. “But it’s okay, if you don’t want to go I can always take Jack.” Dan frowns before he can stop himself, and Tom smiles at him like he knows he’s won. “See you at seven, then?” Tom finishes, victoriously.

“Ugh.” Dan replies, articulately, and Tom returns to his work, satisfied.

 

___

 

The room is packed; it’s smoky, humid and the most claustrophobic place Dan has been in since the tragic afternoon of the 8th of November, in which college hadn't accounted for the four hundred students that would be descending onto the English corridor all at once.

The crowd shuffles a little, and Dan re-evaluates. This is the most crowded place he’s been in _ever._

The crowd themselves are very much like Dan himself; teenage and very, very drunk, and the few hundred of them sway in what’s close enough to unison. Dan’s pretty much on cloud nine, and the band haven’t even _started_ yet.

It feels like something special is about the happen. For all of the fact that the venue is a toilet, the atmosphere is absolutely electric; the crowd is abuzz with nervous energy, and the speakers hum with what seems like content from the stage. They sound content to Dan.

_God_ , he’s drunk.

“I love you,” He slurs at Tom. Dan’s not certain that Tom hears, but there’s a smug smile spreading onto his face, so Dan feels like he’s probably got the gist.

Dan’s about to turn to Tom to confirm this, but the lights dip out of nowhere, and the dim music from the speakers cuts out. For a second, a _golden_ second, the cellar is silent and then a guitar riff kicks in and the band seem to apparate onto stage, and Dan is suddenly more squashed than he’s ever been in his life.

Dan feels the bass next, and then there’s the excited screaming of the crowd, and then vocals and, fuck,  Dan's pretty sure that's _Phil Lester_ , which means –

Carnage Mayhem. This is a Carnage Mayhem show.

 

___

 

(Carnage Mayhem are the local band that made it.

…Sort of.

While they’re not nationally famous _yet_ , there’s a buzz about them, and everyone knows that there’s been a large amount of interest shown by the labels for them. It’s just a matter of time.

They’re the closest a local band has come to fame in a long time; the local lads who will perhaps, _maybe_ make it.

Dan, like nearly everyone his age, _loves_ them.)

 

___

 

There are a few things that can sober a teenage boy up. Mosh pits and hot frontmen are among those few things.

Dan stands now, safely away from the pit and in that void between drunk and sober, absolutely and completely in awe of Phil Lester.

Phil is, even _without_ alcohol, the most attractive person Dan has ever seen, and his stage presence seems to demand that everyone else acknowledge this. The lights falls onto his face in a way that hollows his cheekbones and lengthens his eyelashes, and his hair is a dark, messy halo around his head, almost blue in the spotlight.

Dan is very certain that Phil Lester is high up on the _Reasons Why Carnage Mayhem Are Famous_ list.

Dan almost wishes that’s all they had going for them, but they’re _incredible,_ too.

The things that the guitarist is _doing_ to that guitar are something else completely, and the whole band are so _tight_ and –

Grammys. They deserve _so_ many Grammys. All the Grammys. Every Grammy.

 

___

 

Tom drags Dan outside to meet some people. Normally, that means that Tom wants a fag, so Dan is very, very surprised to find himself face to face with Phil Lester.

( _Phil Lester!_ Dan’s brain supplies, numbly. _Phil Lester!_ )

“U-uh.” Dan says, dumbly when Tom pulls Phil into a hug, and then his brain hotwires when Phil looks at him.

This does not compute. This is _not_ Dan’s life.

Dan should not be stood in an alleyway with local sensations Carnage Mayhem, Dan should be in bed, playing Fallout. This really, really does not compute.

"I'm Phil, hi." Phil says, and Dan starts to panic, because  _THIS DOES NOT COMPUTE, SELF DESTRUCK IN T- MINUS THREE, TWO, ONE –_

"I know." Dan says, which, _what the fuck was that?_  "I mean, uhm Tom mentioned you?"  _Nice. Smooth recovery_.

"Oh." Phil says.

"Oh." Dan echoes, and then his mind blanks.

Dan suddenly feels a burning desire for the fiery pits of hell to swallow him up whole.

"This is Dan…" Tom supplies, looking between them in a way that conveys that he is very disappointed with Dan’s social ability. "…By the way." He looks plotting, then, and Dan’s stomach flips, but that might be because Phil is so close. Dan shoots Tom a glance that is half a warning and half a thanks and then smiles shyly at Phil, who returns it almost instantaneously.

"Did you enjoy the show?" Phil asks, and Tom steps up to the challenge of speaking for the pair of them, leaving Dan a chance to assess the situation. The rest of the band are hovering around the open end their van with a few other guys that Dan doesn’t recognise, and, at the other end of the alley Dan can see the crowd leaving.

He listens to Tom and Phil’s inconsequential chatter for a while, interjecting every now and then, but mainly he stays quiet.

It’s all a little surreal.

Phil isn’t anything like he is on stage at all.

He's almost owlish, now, and his voice is hushed and gentle in a way that harshly juxtapositions his vocals. He's no longer throwing himself around, or bantering with Matt, but rather smiling softly. Right at him. _Fuck._

Dan perhaps feels a little weak at the knees, and his brain makes an airy little noise of exhalation that is reserved especially for cute boys.

Tom looks at him a little weird.

“Are you alright Dan?” Phil asks, and in a cosmic fit of unfairness, Dan realises that he made the noise out loud.

“Um. I might still be a little… Drunk.” He says, and Tom snorts.

“No shit.” Tom says, and then potters off down the alley towards Chris, leaving him alone with Phil.

“So, how’d you know Tom?” Phil says, watching him leave.

“High school.” Dan says. “But we go to college together, too.”

“Oh, right.” Phil says, sounding genuinely interested. “Cool. Is it okay if I smoke?”

“Yeah.” Dan says. “How do _you_ know Tom?”

Phil’s fingers fumble around a lighter for a moment, and then he’s lit up, cheeks hollowed around his inhale. The curve of his lips on the exhale is very, very kissable. Dan tries very hard not to stare.

“Tom’s mum knows my mum,” Phil explains, “Tom’s mum brought him along to one of their meets at ours and we got on. He’s a nice guy.”

“I wouldn’t quite use the word nice to describe Tom.” Dan says and Phil grins; an all-out, show stopping smile that crawls into Dan’s chest with uncomfortable ease.

Something about the conversation settles, _finally,_ and Dan finds himself actually having a nice time. As in, Dan is in an unfamiliar social setting and is enjoying himself, as in miracles _do_ happen.

Phil is looking at him significantly, and Dan is starting to feel very hopeful, but it’s _cold_ and Dan really isn’t sure how long he can keep this conversation going without going into hypothermic shock.

Sure, Dan knows that he should probably say something, but then that might mean that the conversation would end, and he’s not quite willing to put an end to what feels like the most important social (sexual? _Romantic_?) encounter of his life so far.

Therefore, not saying anything sounds like a good plan. An imperishable, flawless plan…

Dan’s teeth start chattering.

…A fucking stupid plan, what the hell was he thinking? Phil is obviously going to…Going to…

…Take his jacket off and lie it over his shoulders. Wow.

The lining of Phil’s jacket is soft and still _really_ warm ( _from Phil’s body!)_ and it smells good. Very good. Dan's not quite sure what it is, exactly, but there’s a lingering scent of vanilla, and Phil’s aftershave is _very_ nice _._

“Put it on properly,” Phil says, eyes warm, “You're gonna get a cold, you’re freezing!" Dan shrugs and pushes his arms through the sleeves, and he can't quite help but notice that Phil’s mouth is closer than it was before, and once he’s noticed he can’t look away.

Phil catches him staring, and Dan has to avert his gaze from his lips. In this light his eyes look so bright; blue and pale and Dan swears that he's never been this gone on someone so quickly

Phil steps closer, somehow, his eyes flickering to his lips. "Is this okay?" He asks gently, staring at Dan searchingly. Dan nods softly, exhaling gently through his nose. “Good,” Phil says and kisses him, and Dan's heart threatens to beat from his chest. It’s not quite his first kiss, but it’s the first kiss that’s _mattered_ , somehow, and Dan suddenly is finding it very difficult to focus on anything but the way Phil’s mouth feels against his own.

Phil pulls away first, his chest flush against his own. Dan only notices then that he's pinned against the wall, which is. Something. He shudders, dragging Phil's lips back to his own and, wow, this,  _this_ , is what his teenage years have been leading up to.

It's not really the most romantic of first encounters; they’re in a cold alleyway, and their teeth clash occasionally and sometimes their noses bash together, but it's _good_. Phil’s hands are moulded around his jaw and Dan’s arms are tight around Phil’s waist, and Dan’s starting to feel a little light-headed and –

At the end of the alley a car honks, and Phil pulls back looking as dishevelled as Dan feels.

"Shit.” Phil breaths, “That's my cue." His lips are glossy and swollen from kissing when he smiles. "Call me!" He says and then he kisses him again; just a slight, chaste pressing of lips before sprinting off to the van. It feels almost like a promise.

 

___

 

Only when the tail lights of the van are turning the corner does Dan realise that he's still wearing Phil's denim jacket.

Dan has to fight the urge to hyperventilate and/or slide down the wall and hug his knees.

 

___

 

Tom shows up hardly three minutes later. Dan's both hyperventilating and hugging his knees, slumped down in the slight gristle of the corner where the ground meets the wall. Tom's smirk says it all, really, and Dan really wants to punch him right now.

Tom is such an ass it hurts.

"I like your jacket." Tom says, knowingly.

_“_ Fuck off,” Dan says, but he doesn’t have it in him to put any heat into it.

Tom looks vaguely scandalised, then fixes Dan with a wide, shit eating grin which tells Dan that he knows about all the impure thoughts he’s going to be having tonight. Dan reckons glaring at Tom will only encourage open mocking, so instead he stands up and pulls the jacket closer around him.

“Ready to go, loverboy?” Tom says. Dan doesn’t even have a good comeback.

He just made out with Phil Lester, arguably the most popular person  _ever_.


	2. Chapter 2

Dan's life continues as pretty much as normal.

As it turns out, Phil Lester _won't_ be seeing him again. That would be fine, but of course it's not like it's down to Dan's choosing. Obviously. Dan definitely would not choose to not get Phil's number.

It's stupid; utterly and completely _idiotic_ , really, that when Phil had said, "Call me!” Dan hadn't even considered  _how?_

The world is so totally, very, very much not fair.

He spends the best part of the weekend moping, and then on Sunday his mum makes shepherd’s pie for dinner, which cheers him up rather substantially.

 

___

 

On Thursday night he finds an old receipt in the pocket of Phil’s jacket with  _call me - phil :D_  and eleven numbers scrawled along the back.

Dan screams into his pillow and thanks every sentient being in existence for this blessing.

This is so totally, very, _very_ much fair. This is the fairest thing to ever happen. Good things _do_ happen to good people.

 

___

 

 **Me** hi it’s dan i only just found your number 

 **Me** you could have given it instead of ~hiding~ it and being shady smh

 **Phil** D: I thought you’d find it easy!!

 **Me** INCORRECT

 

___

 

Dan wakes up to _do you want to go get food tonight? or coffee! i’m not picky :D_ from Phil, and finds himself the most awake he has ever been in his entire life.

No point in playing it cool, Howell, he thinks and replies _yes!!_

 

___

 

“I am on the worst comedown of my life.” Tom groans, leaning his head against the bus window. “The _worst._ ”

“Okay.” Dan says, and returns to his phone.

“Br _ut_ al.” Tom replies, but his voice wobbles. “I have _never_ felt so bad in my entire life, Dan. Pity me.”

“I don’t even want to _know_ what you took last night.” Dan replies, unsympathetically, not even looking up.

“That’s _rude_.” Tom says. “You don’t care about your old pal? Your buddy? Your best looking mate? Your top lad?” When Dan doesn’t justify this with a response, Tom continues, “I mean, I _was_ going to show you what Phil’s been saying about you, but because you’ve been so _rude_ I’m not sure I want to anymore.”

Dan has never moved his head so fast in his life. “What.” He says. “Has Phil been saying about me?

“Oh, nothing bad.” Tom says, unhelpfully. At Dan’s withering look, he says, with a smirk, “he wants to know what food you like.” Tom states, and then pauses for effect. “And how to dress, and what you like in general. He’s _ner_ vous.”

“ _What_?” Dan says. “He’s damn nervous?”

 

___

 

The thing is, Dan is shy, but he’s not incapable of social interaction. And positive reinforcement goes a _long_ way.

Somehow, seeing Phil’s messages to Tom _freaking out_ about _him_ makes Dan very comfortable. Comfortable enough, at least to send Phil the message:

_i’m not a veggie or anything & i like music. just if you were wondering :¬)_

And then:

_what would you have done if i was a vegetarian???? You: “hahah that’s cool i respect that!” also u: cries while cancelling our nando’s reservation_

 

___

 

Phil replies, an hour later:

_I wouldn’t take you to nando’s on our first date! We’re not on that level of cheeky yet_

 

___

 

Phil is actually waiting for him outside. Dan's heart feels a little confined in his chest at the pure sight of him, and he may feel just a little woozy.

Phil is _somehow_ more attractive than he remembers, leaning, his ankles crossed, against the black gates. He should look like nothing out of the ordinary, theoretically, but apparently Phil can make a flannel shirt and glasses look astronomically hot. Dan wonders, not for the first time, if it's actually an issue in his life, just looking that hot _all_ the time. _The unwanted attention_ , Dan thinks, and cringes.

Speaking of unwanted attention, Phil seems to be attracting a lot of it.

There’s some lower sixth girls looking interested in front of Dan, and a group of upper sixth students are huddled next to the shrubbery are taking a special interest in his presence.

Dan doesn’t manage to hide his smile when Phil spots him, and waves. There is just something about having a hot boy interested in you.

The line that Phil chooses to open with, apparently, is, “I am very sorry about not giving you my number in a way that wasn’t shady.”

Dan snorts. “You’d better be sorry.”

 

___

 

The place that Phil chooses is, put simply, the indiest place that Dan has ever seen. Even that seems like an understatement.

The walls are mint green, apart from around the counter where the decorator was obviously inspired by _Pret A Manger_ going by the pretentious exposed brick wall. There’s a glass display cabinet of sandwiches and cakes and pastries, and the chalkboards (hand-written, _Jesus_ ) boast _25 smoothie flavours!_

“It’s a veggie café.” Phil explains.

 _Well, that explains it_ , Dan thinks.

“I thought it would be funny?” Phil appeals.

“You tried.” Dan offers.

“Pfft.” Phil says, and reaches to hold his hand. “Smoothie?”

 

___

 

Dan chooses a mango, passion fruit and peach smoothie and Phil chooses a dairy free toffee milkshake, and they sit, pressed up together in the loveseat in the corner.

In this situation there are three certain things that Dan cannot believe. They are:

  1. That it is happening at all.
  2. That Phil is looking at him like he’s precious and laughing at his jokes and seems to actually _like_ him.
  3. That this smoothie is s _o g_ ood.



 

The music is ambient and calming, and there’s something so natural about the way they just connect. Phil’s face is beautiful up close like this; the lines of his cheekbones are sharp, but his smile is warm and open in just a way that makes Dan w _ant_ to share. Dan is absolutely fascinated.

Hours later, when Dan’s waiting for his bus, Phil looks at him with large, blue eyes and kisses him chastely on the cheek and Dan thinks, _fuck it,_ and drags their mouths together. Dan watches as Phil’s eyes flutter shut with a scattering of dark eyelashes before he shuts his own eyes and focuses on the way their mouths feel together. There’s something inherently _gross_ about the whole concept of making out, but with Phil’s hands warm on his neck and his mouth pushing against his own, Dan finds that it’s actually all quite enjoyable.

Phil pulls away, suddenly, and Dan honest-to-God whines, because he is an embarrassment, but Phil just giggles ( _giggles!_ ) and says, “your bus is here.”

“Oh.” Dan says, still a little dazed from the kiss. “Yeah. I’ll, uh, see you?”

“Yeah.” Phil replies, looking hazy and soft around the edges. “Yeah, definitely. I’ll text you.”


End file.
